Tale Of A Servant
by The Feline Overlord
Summary: Everyone at Castle Dunsinane, even the lowest of servants, has a story. And for one young man, things are further complicated by three witches.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I obviously don't own any of Shakespeare's work. Nor do I own the military dictatorship of Argentina. Because that would be** _ **weird.**_ **Also, because this was inspired by a group production, a lot of the inside jokes and little quirks to the characters were thought up by their respective actors, and my Humanities teachers came up with the setting.**

 **Dear Readers: This story is dedicated to everyone in my grade for an awesome production :)**

 **And also to Larry Jr. the Lizard, the mascot of the tech table.**

 **A big thanks to The Slaying Assassin for being my beta reader.**

 **Weird Update On The Author's Personal Life: It never ceases to amaze me how much clay can get stuck in a garlic press.**

 **Notes On Setting: The production of Macbeth that inspired me to write this story took place in Argentina around the time of the military dictatorship. The witches were supposed to represent Las Abuelas De Plaza De Mayo, and Juan and Eva Peron were the counterparts of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth. We also had six witches instead of three, the three main ones and the witch ensemble.**

 **Beyond having a role backstage dragging around a chair, I played a servant and had a grand total of two lines. Along with some of my friends, I thought up an elaborate backstory for my character.**

 **I will not be writing this story in Shakespearean language because I don't want to butcher anything, unless there is an actual line from the play that I want to use.**

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Nicolas had never been one to stand out. He was a simple peasant living in Birnam Wood. Being somewhat of a recluse, he stayed in the forest most of the time, and lived alone. He knew little of any family he may have had.

Nicolas, or Nico as he prefered to be called (not that anyone was around to call him anything), would've gone insane long ago if it weren't for his pet goat. Nico's goat Miguel, or Señor Miguel as he affectionately called him, was the only thing he had left in life. Back when he was young and careless, he had rescued the little goat from a hunter's snare and defended him from the rather annoyed hunter. The two of them had been best friends ever since. For Nicolas, his days were spent evading the troops trying to recruit him for the ever-present war, and the thought of caring for Miguel was the only thing that kept him going. He didn't like to fight, and instead spent his life hiding out in the woods.

Miguel was an old goat who had been with Nico for most of his life. They both knew that the time would come, and one day Miguel became very sick. He could barely stand up, and was too weak to climb onto Nico's bed and lick his face in the morning.

Nico tried everything to save the poor goat, even braving the judgmental streets to seek help, but nothing seemed to work. One day, while he was sitting on the porch and petting the sickly goat, he decided. He had to get help for Miguel. And for that, he needed a job. He had spent his life doing nothing, and now his dearest friend was suffering from it. Money would allow him to get medicine for Miguel, and maybe even a good goat doctor.

With a hood over his head to hide his identity, Nico strode purposefully through the streets. He was constantly looking over his shoulder in Thankfully, no one stopped him, and he soon reached Castle Dunsinane. At the gate, a bored looking guard looked up. "What do you want?" she asked, leaning on her spear.

"Does your master happen to have any job openings?"

"Can't see why you would want to work _here_ , but go on in." The guard gestured with her spear.

"Aren't you going to open the gate?"

"Nah. You can use the back door."

The castle was greater than anything Nico could imagine. Lavish decorations and grand furniture adorned every room. Another servant led him to an office and handed him a form and a quill. "Good luck." He gave a little smile and backed away. "Be warned, our master is rather temperamental," he cautioned.

Nico started on the form, his job application. Once he finished it, he handed it to a lady sitting at the desk, Macbeth's secretary. She began to look through it:

 _What is thy name?_ _ **Nico Miguel**_ (he had taken on the last name of his goat friend)

 _Previous experience:_ _ **none**_

 _Place of residence:_ _**Birnam Wood**_

She raised an eyebrow at 'lives with pet goat' with a little cartoon sketch of Miguel next to it, but eventually finished reading and shrugged. "You're in," she said. The war had made it harder to find capable help around the castle, so they would take what they could get.

"When do I start?" Nico asked.

"Now." She chucked a basket of laundry at him.

Three days into his job, Nico was yet to actually meet the fabled Macbeth or his cunning wife face to face. Plus he didn't get paid very much, and he had seen more dirty socks than he ever would've wanted in his life. But he thought he was doing pretty well. Miguel was hanging on. He felt bad leaving the goat at home while he went to work, but he knew it was for the best.

On the way back home on his fourth day, he noticed a small commotion. From what he could gather, Macbeth was confronting another man, presumably the king's son Malcolm, for having an affair with his wife. Not wanting to draw attention to himself, he took a different way out of the city. He walked quickly, eager to check on his best friend. As soon as he reached the edge of the forest, he got the strange feeling that someone was watching him.

Then he saw them. Three figures shrouded by smoke were huddled by a nearby hill. As he watched, three more stepped up to meet them. When the smoke cleared, six of the ugliest ladies imaginable were suddenly much closer, standing in front of him. Nico had stumbled upon a coven of witches. Or had they found him?

One of the witches seemed to be the leader, stepping in front of the rest. Her eyes were wild and her hair wilder; she approached him, reaching with a bony hand. Beside her, an almost feral looking witch knelt, leaning forwards and staring at Nico, motionless. Another younger witch peered over the leader's shoulder, calling another one of her sisters out of the shadows. They nodded and smiled, studying him intently.

On one side of the leader were two identical witches. They babbled incoherently to each other, pointing at Nico and giggling. One of them winked at him.

Nico wasn't sure where to look. His knees felt weak at the intense gazes of the weird sisters.

The witch in the lead stepped forwards, reaching to touch him and blocking his path. She opened her mouth as if to speak. The others moved in closer around him, forming a circle.

They were going to kill him and _eat_ him, Nico was sure of it. Just his luck. They'd probably grind his bones into bread or something. Would anyone even notice if he was to disappear that day? Had he done anything worth doing? Any evidence that he ever had _existed_ would be gone. But what of his goat? He had an image of Miguel finding the strength to stand up and walk to the door, where he would sit, waiting patiently for his best friend's return.

Something snapped in Nico. He yelled, "I don't want trouble!", ducking under the witch's outstretched arm and bolting. He ran through the forest, crying and screaming for Señor Miguel and seeming to see the witches' faces at every turn. He couldn't go back there. Not ever.

As soon as he got home, he hugged Miguel, sobbing into the goat's fur. Miguel bleated weakly. Just when he thought things were taking a turn for the better, _this_ had to happen. Nico somehow knew that these witches wouldn't leave him alone.

That night was a terrible storm. And sure enough, outside his window, there was a gathering.

" _When shall we six meet again?"_ The leader of the witches turned to her sisters with a malevolent grin.

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 ***Cue ominous music***

 **I don't think the witches will ever leave Nico alone. I wonder what they have in store for him...**

 **Don't forget to review, follow, and favorite!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Dear Readers: I know it's been a while since I've been busy, but I hope you'll enjoy the new update!**

 **Weird Update On The Author's Personal Life: Robotics has been fun, and I'm not completely incompetent at it, so that's cool.**

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Nico couldn't remember the last time he had a good night's rest. He worked long days at the castle that seemed to blur together; he judged time only by the pitiful pile of coins he had earned and the still poor condition of his goat friend. The days were hard, but they were bearable, especially with Miguel on his mind. Nico had gotten especially good at the laundry.

It was the night that Nico couldn't stand. He was kept busy working as a servant, but when he finally got home the witches seemed to be there at every turn. Nico was afraid. The snap of a twig, the rustling of leaves, the whisper of the wind through the trees, they all turned into the beckoning of the "weird sisters," as they were often referred to as in folklore.

But Nico got used to even that. He had to.

One day, on his way into the castle, he was stopped when he heard a strangled gasp. A chubby youth, looking barely out of puberty, stumbled towards the gate. He looked to have been running the entire way to the castle. The guard that Nico had met on his first day, who Nico had learned was named Alessa, walked over, spear in hand. The messenger boy collapsed at their feet.

Alessa prodded the messenger with the butt of her spear, looking unamused. Nico liked Alessa- she was friendly enough from when they had talked a few times, but she could be rather blunt sometimes.

The boy pushed himself upright into a sitting position, still wheezing. Between gasps, he relayed the news.

Between the two of them they were able to decipher the boy's words. "King Duncan is coming _here_? This very day?" The guard regarded the young boy with narrowed eyes.

The messenger nodded furiously.

Nico could scarcely believe it. The King? That was virtually unheard of. And maybe this would also be an opportunity for him to meet Macbeth.

"What are you waiting for! Go tell our master!"

Alessa's words sent Nico scurrying off to the chambers of the Lady Macbeth, whom he knew only as "mistress". He knocked on the door. No response. He decided to open it a crack. He had urgent news- she was bound to understand.

The cold gaze of Lady Macbeth was on Nico immediately. "What do you want?" She was regal, dignified, and definitely unamused- possibly even scarier than the witches.

Nico stepped into the room. It was lit by candlelight, and his mistress was pacing agitatedly. Yep. It wasn't a good time. "King Duncan is coming tonight," he managed to croak out.

Lady Macbeth raised an eyebrow. "Are you _crazy_?" she hissed. "And where is my husband?"

"I-I'm telling the truth." _Please don't kill me._ "Our thane is with the King. One of the messengers told me," he added, in hopes of using specific examples to prove his point. Huh, kind of like writing an essay. "He ran ahead of them, and he was so out of breath that we could barely understand his words." He quickly confirmed, "We _are_ sure of what he said."

"I see." Lady Macbeth still looked doubtful. "Now go, and prepare for our King's arrival."

Nico bowed his head and left. Others might see grand banquets for the King's arrival and news of the war, but all Nico could think about was the amount of dishes he'd have to do. Anything to get on Lady Macbeth's good side.

He found Alessa and Gordon, the messenger boy, were still outside. Gordon had apparently passed out as soon as Nico left. Alessa couldn't leave her post so Nico ended up running to fetch him a glass of water.

"I say we dump it on him," Alessa offered, giving him another poke with her spear (the blunt end, of course). "You'd think a messenger would at least be able to run."

"He had to make it all the way here from the battle," Nico argued, defending the poor boy.

"What did you get water for, then?"

"I thought he would want a drink when he woke up?"

Their problem was solved when Gordon sat up with a jolt and reached for the water, pouring it over his own head.

Alessa shot a smug look in Nico's direction.

Gordon looked around wildly, and began to recite, "The battle went well and Macbeth gives his greetings. King Duncan and Lord Macbeth are returning from battle. The King will be here by the end of the day."

Before Alessa or Nico could respond, Gordon seemed to get his bearings. "…oh. Sorry. I kind of memorized that."

They spent the rest of the day preparing for the King's arrival, and all too soon it was time for Nico to return to his home in Birnam Wood. He took the usual back alleys- the last thing he needed was being whisked into the army and away from Miguel.

Sure enough, the witches were waiting for him as soon as he reached the woods.

"But you, boy, you'll see it all." The witches' leader stepped forwards. "The road is bloody, kingdoms will fall."

"I-I can't help you," Nico stuttered. Why did it always have to be _him_?

"Of course, you must heed our call," another witch added, nodding furiously, only to be silenced by another one of their comrades.

The witch in the lead signaled to the two identical witches. Perfectly synchronized, they moved to stand on either side of Nico.

"What do you want?", he squeaked.

"Insight," chirped one of the twins.

"Perspective," added the other, brushing Nico's cheek. He flinched away, only for the other witch to reach for his hair.

"Nicolas, we have an offer to make." The lead witch bared her teeth in a grotesque grin. "You will be of use."

That was the last straw for Nico. How did they know his name? He tried to book it into the woods, but the feral witch intercepted, snarling at him.

"Give the boy some time." The twin witches spoke in unison, giggling at the feral witch's antics like it was little more than a zoo animal.

The witch leader nodded at Nico. "Tomorrow at dusk, we will begin."

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 **I hope that you enjoyed this, and please leave a review.**


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